When rock becomes myth

Foreword

If you were to poll rock listeners, from the most knowledgeable to the casual fan, asking what image best symbolizes this genre, most would probably point to the rock guitarist. Few figures have become as iconic as the musician who picks up an electric guitar and launches into a solo.

The role of the guitarist

Always an emblematic figure, the guitarist has gone through decades of transformation, becoming progressively more iconic: from the cursed, rebellious bluesman of 1950s rock'n'roll, to the creator of the hypnotic, lysergic melodies of psychedelia in the 60s, all the way to becoming ever more central with the rise of hard rock in the 70s. With the birth of metal, between the late 70s and early 80s, the guitarist becomes a kind of superhero, and the guitar itself almost a phallic prosthesis underscoring his limitless power.

The role of the solo

The solo – with all the stylistic differences between rock'n'roll, hard rock and metal – becomes the means by which the guitarist expresses his skill and creativity, eventually giving rise to the figure of the shredder, the virtuoso who places technique above all else.

In the very period when some musicians bow to the guitar's dominant role, others scale back its importance, favoring keyboards and synthesizers instead. This is the beginning of new wave, a wave of creativity that prizes composition over technique, and in which the guitar blends into a mosaic of instruments and influences without ever overpowering them. The role of the solo becomes progressively marginal, until it starts to look almost like a museum piece, something fit for rock dinosaurs.

Even in the rock revival of the 90s the solo loses centrality: grunge and post-rock drastically scale it back, while it continues to survive above all within the endless cycle of birth and transformation of metal subgenres. Here, despite some exceptions – in black metal, for instance, the solo becomes less central – it remains an integral part of the musical language, until it almost disappears entirely in nu metal at the end of the millennium.

Despite these mixed fortunes, the solo remains one of the founding moments of rock culture: from the sprawling, river-like solos of the psychedelic era – the lysergic jam – to the long endings of hard rock songs, true guitar-driven charges; from the neoclassical influences of certain virtuosos to the complex architectures of progressive rock, all the way to the technical explosion of metal.

One possible playlist among infinite playlists

The playlist that follows (one of infinite possible ones) tries to tell precisely this evolution, favouring the most exhilarating solos: the ones that seem like they could go on forever without ever growing tiresome. It's no coincidence that many of these fade out, with the volume gradually dropping until it reaches silence. It's a device that suggests the solo could ideally go on without end, building its own pathos minute by minute. A classic example is "Comfortably Numb", so powerful and evocative that it can only close in a fade. A narrative device typical of the psychedelic jams of the 60s, but one that also reappears in more modern tracks, especially when the closing solo carries strong emotional weight.

Very often the solo is placed within the song as its climactic moment, sometimes taking the form of a dialogue between two guitarists; other times, more rarely, it even becomes the song's structural backbone, ceasing to be a mere solo passage and turning instead into its true narrative core.

The playlist thus follows the evolution of the solo in rock, dividing the tracks into chapters: from the first great long solos of the 60s to the most recent developments.

The definitive solo, the most celebrated of all

• Comfortably Numb (1979) – Pink Floyd (David Gilmour)

If one had to pick a single solo – the most evocative, the most famous, the rock solo par excellence – most listeners would probably choose "Comfortably Numb", the celebrated track from the musical psychodrama of "The Wall".

David Gilmour is precisely the guitarist who, over the course of his career, has composed a series of solos that are instantly recognisable in their style: long, intense and often heart-wrenching, capable of reaching emotional peaks that few other guitarists could even imagine.

The solo in "Comfortably Numb" could go on forever: between pauses and surges that never repeat themselves quite the same way, and the gradual build-up of tension, it's able to bring the listener to an almost ecstatic state. It's not the only solo to attempt this feat, and Gilmour himself tried it – successfully – on several other occasions, but here we're perhaps looking at the absolute pinnacle. It's no surprise, then, that many consider it a kind of yardstick against which, knowingly or not, all other solos are measured.

The psychedelic jam

• Spare Chaynge (1967) – Jefferson Airplane (Jorma Kaukonen)
• The End (1967) – The Doors (Robby Krieger)
• Invocation And Ritual Dance Of The Young Pumpkin (1967) – The Mothers Of Invention (Frank Zappa)
• Voodoo Chile (1968) – Jimi Hendrix Experience (Jimi Hendrix)
• All Along the Watchtower (1968) – Jimi Hendrix Experience (Jimi Hendrix)
• Dark Star (1968) – Grateful Dead (Jerry Garcia)
• Who Do You Love Suite (1969) – Quicksilver Messenger Service (John Cipollina/Gary Duncan)
• Echoes (1971) – Pink Floyd (David Gilmour)
• Maggot Brain (1971) – Funkadelic (Eddie Hazel)

Psychedelic music gave the solo a radically different meaning from the one it had held in the previous decade. From the fun and rebellion of rock'n'roll, it shifts towards the expansion of consciousness stimulated by dilated sounds, the influence of Indian ragas, the sheer length of the solos and – if need be – the use of LSD itself. The solo thus becomes the psychedelic jam: long, hypnotic, almost ritualistic, so much so that it required a collective experience to be fully lived.

Among the main protagonists of this transformation are, of course, Jefferson Airplane, Grateful Dead, Doors, Jimi Hendrix and Quicksilver Messenger Service, who completely rewrite the meaning of the electric guitar. In America, between San Francisco and Los Angeles, Jorma Kaukonen builds long streams of psychedelic blues (“Spare Chaynge”); Robby Krieger merges lysergic music with the suggestions of Indian raga (“The End”).

Jimi Hendrix literally sets his guitar on fire, revealing potential previously unimaginable ("Voodoo Chile", "All Along The Watchtower"); Jerry Garcia writes genuine instruction manuals for building a psychedelic jam ("Dark Star"), turning the solo into an all-encompassing collective experience; while John Cipollina and Gary Duncan turn their compositions into monumental electric suites ("Who Do You Love Suite").

Frank Zappa, despite not using Lsd, draws inspiration from these sounds, taking part in the evolution of a new music destined to become immortal ("Invocation And Ritual Dance Of The Young Pumpkin").

Even funk turns psychedelic with Eddie Hazel on the track "Maggot Brain", a wholly original form of guitar improvisation/trance.

In England, meanwhile, David Gilmour begins his career by writing some of the psychedelic solos destined to remain forever etched in the collective imagination. In particular, the solo on "Echoes", an integral part of a suite structured in several movements, changes the course of history: nothing will ever be the same again.

The eruption of kraut: the cosmic solos

• Phallus Dei (1969) – Amon Düül II (John Weinzierl)
• Journey Through a Burning Brain (1970) – Tangerine Dream (Edgar Froese)
• Amboss (1971) – Ash Ra Tempel (Manuel Göttsching)
• Eye-Shaking King (1971) – Amon Düül II (John Weinzierl)
• Hallogallo (1972) – Neu! (Michael Rother)
• Hosianna Mantra (1972) – Popol Vuh (Florian Fricke/Conny Veit)
• Seeland (1973) – Neu! (Michael Rother)
• Bel Air (1973) – Can (Michael Karoli)

Germany's kraut-rock scene creates a wholly alternative version of the psychedelic jam: extremely free, at times contemplative, but much more often chaotic and improvised. Virtuosity is never an end in itself, but becomes a means of exploring new sonic possibilities, always in service of an idea — be it the motorik of Neu!, the mysticism of Popol Vuh, the anarchic delirium of Amon Düül II, or the cosmic visions of Tangerine Dream and Ash Ra Tempel. The guitar notes thus produce a hypnotic flow suspended between psychedelia, minimalism and improvisation. It's a revolution: one of the most creative — if sadly marginal — movements in youth music.

It all begins in 1969 with John Weinzierl, guitarist of Amon Düül II, who on "Phallus Dei" (1969) turns the guitar solo into a chaotic collective trance, repeating the feat in the shorter psychedelic voyage of "Eye-Shaking King" (1971).

The debut album by Tangerine Dream contains "Journey Through A Burning Brain" (1970), one of the most chaotic and adventurous guitar jams in kraut-rock.

The solos grow ever more visionary, and with "Amboss," Manuel Göttsching of Ash Ra Tempel lays down an incendiary twenty-minute jam that has no equal: it's the apotheosis of kraut guitar.

Two souls coexist within the Neu! discography: a minimalist, repetitive one found in the solo on "Hallogallo" (1972), where Michael Rother's guitar builds small melodic variations over the famous motorik beat, and a more atmospheric, emotional one evident in the dreamlike solo on "Seeland" (1973).

Florian Fricke and Conny Veit, with "Hosianna Mantra," turn the solo into spiritual contemplation: a metaphysical-religious experience seeking the unifying element present in every faith. A magnificent hymn to peace, meant to unite rather than divide.

Finally, Michael Karoli of Can turns blues conventions on their head across the nineteen minutes of "Bel Air," with a long solo that slowly emerges from a hypnotic sonic magma and those obsessive rhythms made famous by Neu! themselves.

Hard rock rides

• Since I’ve Been Loving You (1970) – Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page)
• War Pigs (1970) – Black Sabbath (Tony Iommi)
• Stairway To Heaven (1971) – Led Zeppelin (Jimmy Page)
• Highway Star (1972) – Deep Purple (Ritchie Blackmore)
• Free Bird (1973) – Lynyrd Skynyrd (Allen Collins / Gary Rossington)
• Brighton Rock (1974) – Queen (Brian May)
• Here Again (1974) – Rush (Alex Lifeson)
• Cause We've Ended As Lovers (1975) – Jeff Beck (Jeff Beck)
• Hotel California (1976) – Eagles (Don Felder / Joe Walsh)
• Sultans Of Swing (1978) – Dire Straits (Mark Knopfler)
• The Final Countdown (1986) – Europe (John Norum)
• On The Turning In Away (1987) – Pink Floyd (David Gilmour)
• Paradise City (1987) – Guns N' Roses (Slash)
• November Rain (1991) – Guns N' Roses (Slash)
• Estranged (1991) – Guns N' Roses (Slash)
• Get In The Ring (1991) – Guns N’ Roses (Slash)
• Bijou (1991) – Queen (Brian May)
• The Show Must Go On (1991) – Queen (Brian May)

The birth of hard rock also marks the birth of the first true guitar heroes. Countless are the long, technical, evocative solos of guitarists who have since become timeless legends. The hard rock ride becomes the essence of a new way of understanding youth music. Among the key figures are Tony Iommi, Jimmy Page, Ritchie Blackmore, Alex Lifeson and Brian May, to whom, in the second wave between the 80s and 90s, Slash would later be added.

Jimmy Page, with "Since I've Been Loving You" and "Stairway To Heaven," writes some of the most dramatic and evocative solos of all time, destined to inspire Alex Lifeson of Rush as well ("Here Again," "La Villa Strangiato"). Closer to jazz-fusion but comparable to the tracks mentioned above is "Cause We've Ended as Lovers" (1975) by Jeff Beck.

Tony Iommi weaves his own cutting notes into the apocalyptic, anti-war anthem "War Pigs," while Ritchie Blackmore reaches a then-futuristic speed, drawing on neoclassical and baroque influences ("Highway Star").

Brian May, on "Brighton Rock" — but generally throughout the early years of his career — uses the delay technique to create utterly original sounds.

In America, Allen Collins and Gary Rossington (Lynyrd Skynyrd) laid down some of the most iconic twin-guitar rides in southern rock (“Free Bird“), while Don Felder and Joe Walsh of the Eagles do much the same with “Hotel California”, but wrapped around an unforgettable melody, giving us one of the most celebrated songs of all time.

Towards the end of the '70s, Mark Knopfler, thanks to a highly personal guitar style, brought rock back to its roots, though with a refined technique still indebted to the hard rock guitar heroes (“Sultans Of Swing”).

In the '80s and '90s, hard rock is no longer at the centre of the scene, but it keeps churning out memorable solos. On the border with metal, John Norum of Europe drops one of the decade's most unforgettable solos into “The Final Countdown”. David Gilmour matches the emotional weight of “Comfortably Numb” with the extraordinary closing passage of “On The Turning Away” (1987), one of those solos that seem like they could go on forever.

Slash scatters iconic solos across the entire Guns N’ Roses discography from the '80s onward – just think of the ride that closes out “Paradise City” – and in the '90s he reaches new heights of intensity in the melodramatic finale of “November Rain”, in the melody of “Estranged”, and in the long, furious, blistering solo of “Get In The Ring”, which brings hard rock guitar back to its most instinctive, rebellious core.

Finally, Brian May, after a decade that was artistically less inspired, delivers two of his finest solos in 1991: the one inside Freddie Mercury's farewell anthem “The Show Must Go On”, and the far more intimate one, worlds away from hard rock, on the little-known “Bijou”, a moving track that consists almost entirely of a long guitar solo echoing the melody sung by Mercury.

A new way of perceiving virtuosity: progressive solos

• Starship Trooper (Würm) (1971) – Yes (Steve Howe)
• Firth Of Fifth (1973) – Genesis (Steve Hackett)
• Starless (1974) – King Crimson (Robert Fripp)
• The Prophet’s Song (1975) – Queen (Brian May)
• Ommadawn (1975) – Mike Oldfield (Mike Oldfield)
• Lunar Sea (1976) – Camel (Andy Latimer)
• Ice (1979) – Camel (Andy Latimer)
• Watermelon In Easter Hay (1979) – Frank Zappa (Frank Zappa)

While hard rock enshrines the guitarist as a six-string hero, progressive rock begins to use the solo differently, embedding it within increasingly elaborate musical architectures. Prog is a genre that favours technique, but also compositional complexity and the fusion of every musician in the band. Even though the scene is packed with extraordinary players, the solo is often less important than the elaborate structure of the piece as a whole.

Steve Howe, one of the genre's most representative guitarists, crafts elaborate compositions on every Yes album, but if we had to single out one of his most celebrated solos, it would probably be the hypnotic third movement of “Starship Trooper” (Würm).

Steve Hackett of Genesis, meanwhile, soars in the splendid finale of “Firth Of Fifth” (1973), while Robert Fripp (King Crimson) reaches an absolute peak on “Starless”: not so much a solo in the classic sense, but a genuine original composition that ranges from jazz to rock before exploding into a dizzying finale.

Brian May's progressive soul emerges in “The Prophet’s Song” (1975) with an epic, symphonic finale, while Mike Oldfield, in the closing crescendo of the first part of “Ommadawn”, lays down perhaps the most gripping solo of his career.

Over in the Canterbury scene, Andy Latimer of Camel shows off his technique on “Lunar Sea” (1976) and “Ice” (1979), never tipping over into hard rock excess and always keeping that typically prog sense of balance.

Frank Zappa, finally, records one of his longest and least Zappa-esque solos on “Watermelon In Easter Hay”, probably influenced by contemporary progressive music as well.

The solo called into question: new wave

• Sister Ray (1968) – The Velvet Underground (Lou Reed)
• Marquee Moon (1977) – Television (Tom Verlaine)
• The Great Curve (1980) – Talking Heads (Adrian Belew)

Just when progressive rock seems to have pushed guitar virtuosity to its most sophisticated extreme, new wave takes the opposite path, drastically scaling back the role of the solo. Technique doesn't disappear, but it loses centrality in favour of composition, atmosphere and the construction of a new sonic language, in which the guitar becomes just one piece of the musical mosaic rather than necessarily its star.

The solo is no longer the song's showpiece moment, no longer a heroic or virtuosic gesture, but simply one sound element among others, often in service of the overall compositional idea. And it's precisely from this questioning that new ways of conceiving rock guitar will be born.

One could even start in the '60s with “Sister Ray” by Velvet Underground, a track that foreshadows a new world (both punk and new wave) in which technique clearly loses its centrality to improvised noise and a radical shift built on feedback and distortion.

Tom Verlaine, on the other hand, opens up new devices that put the guitar back at the centre, with an attitude completely different from hard rock or prog. His guitar creates hypnotic phrasing that would inspire the entire new wave scene, and “Marquee Moon” is its clearest example.

The extraordinary career of Adrian Belew (Frank Zappa, David Bowie, King Crimson, Talking Heads) redefines the role of the guitarist with a nervous, frantic, unpredictable style, perfectly suited to the Talking Heads' sound, particularly on the track “The Great Curve”.

The fewest notes for the biggest impact: five minimalist solos

• Eight Miles High (1966) – The Byrds (Roger McGuinn)
• Taxman (1966) – The Beatles (Paul McCartney)
• Summertime Blues (1968) – Blue Cheer (Leigh Stephens)
• Brothers In Arms (1985) – Dire Straits (Mark Knopfler)
• Scar Tissue (1999) – Red Hot Chili Peppers (John Frusciante)

Sometimes, despite all the exaggerated virtuosity out there, just a handful of notes is enough to create an unforgettable solo. Call it maximum impact with minimum sonic material. The examples could be endless, but in the '60s – setting aside the psychedelic jams already mentioned – it was almost standard practice to record very short solos.

Typical examples include the Byrds (Roger McGuinn's raga-inflected solo on “Eight Miles High”), Paul McCartney's few distorted notes on “Taxman”, and the pioneering guitar work of Blue Cheer on “Summertime Blues” (1968), a flash that lights up the future, with Leigh Stephens' distorted guitar and feedback foreshadowing hard rock, punk and even proto-metal.

Two examples from later decades are Mark Knopfler's minimal solo on “Brothers In Arms” (1985) and John Frusciante's on “Scar Tissue” (1999): a few sad, melancholy notes for a solo so evocative that it fades out slowly, as if it could actually go on for several minutes without ever wearing thin.

The triumph of the solo: metal

• Beyond The Realms Of Death (1978) – Judas Priest (Glenn Tipton)
• Transylvania (1980) – Iron Maiden (Dave Murray / Dennis Stratton)
• Mr. Crowley (1980) – Ozzy Osbourne (Randy Rhoads)
• Fade To Black (1984) – Metallica (Kirk Hammett)
• One (1988) – Metallica (Kirk Hammett)
• Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son (1988) – Iron Maiden (Dave Murray / Adrian Smith)
• Hangar 18 (1990) – Megadeth (Marty Friedman / Dave Mustaine)
• Tornado Of Souls (1990) – Megadeth (Marty Friedman)
• No More Tears (1991) – Ozzy Osbourne (Zakk Wylde)
• The Spirit Carries On (1999) – Dream Theater (John Petrucci)
• The Best Of Times (2009) – Dream Theater (John Petrucci)

Metal has made the solo its Bible and the guitarist its God. The possible choices are endless. To try to keep some sense of chronological order, one could start at the dawn of the New Wave Of British Heavy Metal with Glenn Tipton and his solo on “Beyond The Realms Of Death” (1978).

Among the many options offered by Iron Maiden, one could pick “Transylvania” (1980), a blazingly fast instrumental in which the Dave Murray/Dennis Stratton duo launch into dizzying solos. After Stratton's departure and Adrian Smith's arrival, the memorable solos from the new duo are countless: perhaps the best choice would be the long, almost progressive-rock finale of “Seventh Son Of A Seventh Son”, with the lightning-fast trade-off between the unshakeable Murray/Smith pair, simply unmatched.

Some metal guitarists clearly draw on baroque and neoclassical influences. The late Randy Rhoads, on “Mr. Crowley” (1980), paves the way with a run of notes that seem never willing to end.

With the rise of thrash metal, things change and the sound grows even heavier and more distorted. A young Kirk Hammett hits one of his emotional peaks both in the closing section of “Fade To Black” (1984) and in the epic, and at once tragic, barrage of “One” (1988).

Friend/foe Dave Mustaine is no less impressive, and in particular on “Hangar 18” (1990) he and Marty Friedman deliver a formidable guitar marathon, built on a constant call-and-response between the two guitar heroes. Friedman himself tops it off on the same album with one of his most iconic solos, the one on “Tornado Of Souls”. In 1991, the Ozzy Osbourne/Zakk Wylde pairing recorded “No More Tears”, one of the high points of the American guitarist's career.

After the explosion of the '80s, metal splintered into countless subgenres, and the guitarists who emerged were too numerous to list. Among them, John Petrucci is regarded as one of the most technically gifted, a shredder capable of pairing heart with stylistic perfection in a way few others manage. Among his many solos, two stand out as particularly intense: the famous one on “The Spirit Carries On”, which balances melody and fast phrasing with remarkable poise, and the lesser-known one on “The Best Of Times” (2009), where Petrucci channels something close to David Gilmour, delivering the most moving solo of his career on a song dedicated to the father of Mike Portnoy, who had passed away that very year – the classic never-ending solo that leaves you breathless. Too bad it only kicks in after ten overly saccharine minutes.

Flashes in the dark: gothic metal solos

• Black No. 1 (Little Miss Scare-All) (1993) – Type O Negative (Kenny Hickey)
• Full Moon Madness (1996) – Moonspell (Ricardo Amorim)

The dark world has almost erased the very idea of the solo from its music, favoring gothic atmosphere over virtuosity. The same holds largely true for gothic metal, but in some cases the metal soul takes over, and every now and then particularly effective solos emerge. Among these, one that stands out is the slow, dark solo by Kenny Hickey on “Black No.1”, where a handful of guitar notes are submerged in a black, inscrutable sonic magma. From Portugal, Ricardo Amorim, on “Full Moon Madness” (1996), delivers one of gothic metal's most melodramatic and epic endings, a solo that seems never willing to end.

Shred: virtuosity taken to the extreme

• Eruption (1978) – Van Halen (Eddie Van Halen)
• Black Star (1984) – Yngwie Malmsteen (Yngwie Malmsteen)
• Far Beyond The Sun (1984) – Yngwie Malmsteen (Yngwie Malmsteen)
• Trilogy Suite Op. 5 (1986) – Yngwie Malmsteen (Yngwie Malmsteen)
• Surfing With The Alien (1987) – Joe Satriani (Joe Satriani)
• For The Love Of God (1990) – Steve Vai (Steve Vai)
• Cliffs Of Dover (1990) – Eric Johnson (Eric Johnson)
• Paradigm Shift (1998) – Liquid Tension Experiment (John Petrucci)
• Stream Of Consciousness (2003) – Dream Theater (John Petrucci)
• In The Presence Of Enemies Pt. 1 (2007) – Dream Theater (John Petrucci)
• Lost Not Forgotten (2011) – Dream Theater (John Petrucci)

It's precisely out of this explosion of technique and power that a new kind of guitarist is born: the shredder, the virtuoso capable of turning the solo into a genuine athletic feat. The shredder is a guitarist primarily concerned with technique, speed and compositional complexity. Rather than melody or connecting with the audience, he's drawn to recording solos in odd time signatures, at speeds often bordering on the limits of human possibility, and above all to the constant challenge of outdoing himself.

We could consider Eddie Van Halen one of the forerunners of shredding: his “Eruption” (1978), built on a frenzied burst of tapping also inspired by Paganini's virtuoso violin playing, stands as one of the earliest examples of this approach to the guitar.

Virtuoso Yngwie Malmsteen, himself impressed by Van Halen, would push these ideas even further, drawing on baroque music and in particular Vivaldi, and recording especially demanding pieces such as "Black Star", "Far Beyond The Sun" and "Trilogy Suite Op. 5".

These are the years in which Joe Satriani emerges, wielding an impressive technique that is nonetheless often marked by a certain expressive coldness, as "Surfing With The Alien" shows. Steve Vai, a former Frank Zappa collaborator, is a shredder in a similar vein to Satriani but one also capable of conjuring a more spiritual dimension, as in the celebrated "For The Love Of God" (1990).

Eric Johnson brings shredding into fusion music with crystalline elegance, as demonstrated by "Cliffs Of Dover" (1990).

Then there's John Petrucci, the man behind countless virtuoso solos with Dream Theater and in his side project with Tony Levin, Liquid Tension Experiment: among the many standouts are those in the classically-tinged instrumental suite "Stream Of Consciousness" (2003). At times Petrucci places the solo at the very start of the track, sometimes to striking effect, as in the first four minutes and the closing minute of "In The Presence Of Enemies Pt. 1" (2007); other times with great aggression and immediacy, as in Liquid Tension Experiment's "Paradigm Shift" (1998); and at other times with results that feel more forced, as in the solo that kicks in from the two-minute mark of "Lost Not Forgotten" (2011).

Bonus – Italian solos

• Emerald Sword (1998) – Rhapsody (Luca Turilli)
• Sacred Power Of Raging Winds (2001) – Rhapsody (Luca Turilli)
• The Aquilonia Suite (2004) – Domine (Enrico Paoli)
• Hereafter (2016) – DGM (Simone Mularoni)

The Italian metal scene has also produced guitarists capable of leaving their mark with memorable solos, often influenced as much by classic metal as by symphonic music and progressive rock. In particular, symphonic power metal, epic metal and prog metal have offered the most fertile ground for the development of a guitar style that combines technique, melody and narrative flair.

Among them, Luca Turilli is certainly the most internationally renowned thanks to the Rhapsody project. There are countless solos of his worth mentioning: his neoclassical style comes through forcefully in "Emerald Sword" (1998) and in the lightning-fast Vivaldi-esque runs of "Sacred Power Of Raging Winds" (2001).

Another guitar hero of Italian epic metal is Enrico Paoli of Domine, whose epic, narrative solos often stand a notch above the average of the entire international power metal scene. On "The Aquilonia Suite" (2004), Paoli reworks the score for the film "Conan the Barbarian", composed by Basil Poledouris, with such power and conviction that it almost conjures the feeling of a battlefield.

Finally, Simone Mularoni is a modern, hyper-technical prog metal guitarist who strives to renew an instrument that seems to have already said almost everything, as shown by the solo on "Hereafter" (2016).

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